


never mind synchrony

by orphan_account



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Disguise, Fluff, Fluff so bad I need dentures now, M/M, Stargazing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 08:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wataru’s been on his feet and doing parlour tricks for polite smiles and murmured laughter for hours, by the time the Daikagura’s main contest is over. Long enough that he’s fit to burst from the racing energy that comes of overtiredness - not an unusual state but one made a thousand times worse by the crowds of people and music and the auditorium thermostat set as high as it can reach.





	never mind synchrony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SongbirdSonata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongbirdSonata/gifts).



> Halfway through this I got scared that maybe people don't know about the fine/Welcome to the Ballroom collab story?? It’s fully voiced and adorable. They all learn to dance from a guy with a bigger forehead than even Kuro's. Please go listen to Wataru discovering the joys of fatherhood.  
> And thank you to my exchange recipient @SongbirdSonata for giving me a fancy party prompt, it meshed perfectly with another thing I’d been wanting to write for a year or more, and so this was great fun to write… :'D I don't know if Daikagura really had this much of a party/afterparty to go with it but like, whatever

Wataru’s been on his feet and doing parlour tricks for polite smiles and murmured laughter for hours, by the time the Daikagura’s main contest is over. Long enough that he’s fit to burst from the racing energy that comes of overtiredness - not an unusual state but one made a thousand times worse by the crowds of people and music and the auditorium thermostat set as high as it can reach. At this point Eichi will be setting to work securing alliances and trades for the sake of the school’s patronage, and the other students who were involved in the performance will be caught up in meet-and-greets. And so Wataru is resigned to fending for himself for the rest of the night, running on fumes.

But amazingly he’s proved wrong almost immediately. A brush in passing and a whispered word is all it takes; Wataru excuses himself from the crowd of wealthy men and women, slipping between the tight-creased suits and dresses and glasses of alcohol to the edge of the auditorium, and out into the quiet hallway beyond. He knows where to go - despite the high-class social going on inside, this is still the same school. There's a supply closet at the first right-turn which is never kept locked.

Eichi is waiting for him - no, Eichi downright pulls him in there, as soon as he arrives, yanking him by the collar and Wataru expects a kiss but instead Eichi just shakes him back and forth insistently. He lets himself be a ragdoll, bemused.

“Hello there, Eichi,” he tries. “I trust you are having a good time?”

“Did you see? Did you  _ see _ !” Eichi says excitedly, ignoring him. He drags the two of them backward into the room, further and further until his back smacks into a filing cabinet and he wheezes a little. Even in the dim supply-closet light he’s pink above the white of his uniform collar, and overly animated, and fluffy, wreathed by flyaway yellow hair that falls into his blue eyes. He grips Wataru’s hands. His palms are hot. “I’m sorry, I wanted to come here faster, I really did, but - I couldn’t tear my eyes away for a second - Trickstar, they’ve achieved such great heights, and they’ve no intention of stopping, it's so clear! So admirable! And Akatsuki, ugh, they  _ won _ \- I could see that stupid dumb smile on Keito’s face from a mile away, I’m gonna give him such a hard time later - Those performances were pro-level. No, they shone brighter than professionals. You can’t pay to see that anywhere in the world.  _ Wataru _ ,” he says, as if that one word were a fully formed sentence, squeezing his hands tighter. 

Wataru squeezes back. “Eichi, Eichi, I am glad to see you happy, but perhaps you could slow down a littl-”

Apparently Eichi can’t. “You know, by comic book logic, Akatsuki is the strongest unit in the school right now. Trickstar beat us, the rulers, and then Akatsuki beat Trickstar. It’s frustrating, right? I’m really, really, really jealous, you know. I want to be up there too, having fun.”  He beams. ”With you - and Tori and Yuzuru too, of course, and we’ll ride on rays of sunshine, we’ll fly across the world again - ” there’s a fever light in Eichi’s eyes. That won't do! Not that he doesn't want to know more of Eichi’s thoughts, bask in more of his excitement, but it’s his job to make sure his Emperor can continue onward in reality, instead of passing out into dreamland in the middle of parties. 

“Eichi!” He slips out of Eichi’s grip, conjures a billowing black scarf from his fingertips for the night sky, a spray of glitter for the stars, and flings them to fill Eichi’s vision, knowing just how well the power of suggestion works on a believer. 

Eichi takes a step back. “Huh? Where - wha…?”

”So you see! The night is still young, is it not? The year is young, as well - better to wait and bring those fancies of yours to life later, no?” 

The moment Eichi can see again Wataru steps in to stun him with spiralling roses, streamers, rainbow lights, all the flights of fancy he’d been carrying for the guests exploding out at once. It’s paltry, his last-ditch paling in comparison to any Daikagura trick, but it’s enough that for the finale Eichi blinks and laughs and takes his hands once more - for Wataru to dance and spin him and dip him perfectly, their bodies instantly recalling the hours they’d spent learning ballroom dancing together. All the best magic relies on such preparation.

“You needn’t think about anyone else right now, Eichi,” he coaxes, looking dramatically into Eichi’s eyes. “Simply focus on me - ” he tugs Eichi upright again, releases his hold - “and I shall do my very best to make the rest of this party bearable for you, yes?” He gives his most charming smile.

Eichi takes a gasping breath, the whites of his eyes stark, staring back at him - and then his face softens, and he chuckles gently. “I missed you,” he confides, just a beat too fast and sincere to fit their script, and Wataru feels a little jolt.

He steps away to half-bow, touches a kiss to Eichi’s hand. “I am privileged to receive such an admission,” he replies. “Be discontent no more, for your very own Hibiki Wataru is with you now...” 

“Wataru.” Eichi pulls on his braid, just slightly. “On the hand is fine, but… how about up here?” 

Wataru laughs and obliges, presses a kiss to his lips, stays pliant as Eichi fumbles and pulls him closer, closer, deepening it. But then he stops and breaks away slowly, looks at Wataru, fiddles with his braid as if it just so happens to be there, looks down... 

“What is it, Eichi?”

“...You’re so mean, Wataru. Didn't you miss me too?”

“Ah - “ He’d missed a line. No, more than a line. He’d been far too busy to know out there, surrounded by eyes, running tense along a singleminded highwire of entertainment. It was harder to perform in the round, that was for sure. But now - Eichi is smiling at him. 

“Very much,” he admits, deflating. Eichi snickers, obviously smug at having caught him out. And kisses him. And Wataru shuts his eyes and kisses back and lets his mind fill with the simplicity of the smile against his lips for a few precious seconds.

They separate but not quite, because Eichi still has his hands linked at the small of Wataru’s back, keeping him close. He leans his head back and smiles in that particular way he has which gets Wataru feeling like he’s filling up with helium again - like he’s gazing at a hard-won trophy, a treasure worth the entire world. If this goes on any longer Wataru will probably lift off his feet, float up to hit the ceiling and concuss himself. It’s unusual enough for them to even just relax like this; playing games and running rings around each other is their default, after all.

“We missed each other even though we were in the same room the whole time,” Eichi points out smugly.

“But of course! It might as well have been the Pacific Ocean,” Wataru assures him for flattery’s sake.

Eichi  _ hmph _ s and slumps a little. “It was an ocean all right, I was  _ drowning _ in all the formality trying to deal with those people,” he laments. “Using my power to force their hands like this feels filthy, like I’m eating rotten meat…” He purses his lips like he's actually tasting something. “No, more like I’m taking my daily medicine. Dirty dealing is the first medicine that runs through Tenshouin veins from birth, you know. It’s our life support. We’re corrupt to the core.” 

“Oh? And here I thought your heart pumped blood all along! What is that odd substance you cough up so often - tomato juice? Rose petals, perchance?” He conjures a matching red rose with a pop, eager to distract Eichi from his fatigue, eager to see his smile again. Eichi bends his head to smell it. It’s an endless miracle that Eichi does not tire of the scent of roses (although Wataru does like to mix things up by perfuming them in different flavours).

“Mm. Thank you, Wataru. You’re right that even us blue-bloods bleed red in the end, I suppose.”

“Ah, but! I bleed rainbows and glitter, in case you were wondering,” Wataru announces proudly. 

“Oh? I’ll have to test that later,” Eichi says, and Wataru feels a fingernail scratching at his back through his shirt - idle threat or real? Every day is an adventure with the Emperor! He hums happily as Eichi kisses him once more, on the cheek, on the ear, on the neck. He makes a note to stock up on glitter. 

“I believe you had it worse, though. Those nasty old grown-ups don’t appreciate you like I do.”

“ _ Nobody _ appreciates me like you do,” Wataru tells him quite honestly. Eichi grins.

“And I don't do it one-tenth as much as I should,” he replies. “You can stop working now, if you like. They're already buttered up nicely. Come back disguised as a guest and keep me company, why don't you?”

Wataru’s eyes widen. “That would be marvelous.”

“I’ll introduce you as some terribly rich and important Tenshouin family friend, don’t worry - you’ll be able to get away with ever so much,” Eichi says, eyes sparkling. “Shall we go and start?” He tugs at Wataru's elbow.

“Ah, we shall not, for I need to gather materials for any metamorphosis, even just a skin-deep one - speaking of that, Eichi, I need to know - “ he leans in - “...how do you want me...?”

Eichi turns a gratifying shade of pink. “I - you’re asking what disguise you’re gonna come in, aren't you? Don’t tease me like this,” he complains, kicking lightly at Wataru’s shoe. “Whatever you’ll have fun wearing. Something that suits you.”

“Fufufu. My deepest apologies,” he says, not bothering to sound sorry in the slightest. “Your request is a tricky one due to its complete lack of restriction, if I am honest, but I shall do my best to whip something up. Go ahead without me, please, and I shall make my appearance forthwith - I can never resist one last surprise…” 

 

\--

 

“ _ Oh _ \- You must be Tenshouin-kun,” says the lady the party shunts Eichi into collision with next. “I’m very pleased to meet you.” 

This is the most routine of encounters for Eichi. “Pleased to meet you too,” he replies. “A new face - is this your first time attending the annual New Year's concert, then? It’s always wonderful to see the arts attracting more patronage. I hope you’ve found our school to our liking?”

“Oh no. I’ve been coming here for three years now,” the lady says. “And I must say, it’s been  _ especially _ wonderful this year. I commend your leadership.”

“Ah, I do apologise for presuming. And thank you very much. Of course, my fellow students’ hard work deserves the real credit.” Eichi looks at the lady properly for the first time, eyes narrowing. Tall and unusually beautiful, with sparkling dangling jewelry and a marvelously fancy dress. The lady flicks her jet-black hair out of her face and raises an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you,” she says after a moment. “I see someone waving for me over there. If you’ll excuse me.” She brushes past Eichi.

She brushes past, and as she walks away - there's a sharp tug on her hair. She deters Eichi’s hand and whips around.

“Young man,” Wataru says, his voice intimating the highest disdain possible while remaining inaudible to the other partygoers. “First the staring, and now hair-pulling? Just how juvenile can you get?”

Eichi  _ snrk _ s. “Would you rather I pull at your hair or your skirt, madam? Either way, I shan’t let you escape so soon.”

“Why, neither. l come and go as I please, thank you very much.” Wataru flits to his side, leaning to whisper in his ear. “I  _ would  _ prefer the skirt, though, Eichi,” he confides. “Please try to remember I am wearing a wig.” 

“You make it too easy to forget,” Eichi whispers back. “I was as oblivious as everyone else until you said  _ three years _ , and I had advance notice too.” His hand ghosts against Wataru’s arm. Of course, public displays of attention are off the table now. Suddenly Wataru is giddy with co-conspiracy, with the knowledge that they're playing this game completely unseen, like children dodging around the legs of busy adults. Of course he likes it the most when Eichi shows him off, but this  _ exclusivity _ is refreshing.

“Well,” he says, “Tenshouin-kun, aren't you going to introduce me to any of these people? We’re family friends, remember?”

And so Eichi continues working his way through the guests of honour, with Wataru hanging off his arm, so to speak; he fluently introduces Wataru under a false name each time, and doesn’t bat an eye no matter how much whispered mockery Wataru makes of the people around them, nor loudly scandalous comments, nor how many magic tricks he uses to try and distract mid-flow.

It’s really quite a novelty to see Eichi this firmly in his element. Wataru stares out of the corner of his eye and amuses himself by mentally flipping back and forth between this Eichi and the one he knows, trying to reconcile them. This Eichi knows all the possible outcomes, can make full-grown adults dance on the palm of his hand, has no need to take risks at all.  _ His _ Eichi gasps when he interlinks elastic bands in impossible daisy chains, operates vending machines with nervous pride and staggers offstage after lives with every muscle trembling. It’s quite amazing.

“We’re done,” Eichi says to him after a surprisingly short time. “There’s only so many of these people who are actually important. Sorry to bore you like that - shall I make it up by introducing you to a few of today’s performers?”

“I wasn’t bored in the slightest,” Wataru assures him, not bothering to explain himself.

They run into the orange Trickstar boy first, who high-fives Eichi and begs Wataru for his earrings before getting distracted and running off again - then the student-council boy following behind, who Eichi also extorts a high-five from. Next Hokuto, who Wataru has saved his final bouquet of flowers for; he accepts them with such grace, politeness and charm that even disguised Wataru fears he may be hallucinating it all. 

“Don't you want to reveal your identity and rub it in his face? How unusual for you not to tease your juniors,” Eichi remarks as they walk away. 

“Ah, but then Hokuto-kun would reject my admirations and grind my flowers into the nearest wastebasket, you see! I wished to sincerely convey my appreciation for his performance.”

“Trickstar didn't even win,” Eichi says, and could that be a little grumble in his voice? Is that a whiff of jealousy? Wataru beams. 

“Of course, I wanted to keep this secret just between us, too,” he reminds. 

“Ah, of course… I think you should give Keito a few hints, though. I want to see the look on his face when he realises.” 

Wataru whistles. “Goodness, Eichi. Will you ever tire of the various looks on poor Keito-kun’s face, I wonder.”

“I don't think he’ll ever stop making that cute panicked expression, so nope. Oh - look, he’s doing it now - that monkey from the performance is attacking him? Fight, Keito, fight…!” Keito is grabbing helplessly at the little animal dancing up and down his shoulders, surrounded by a rapidly growing circle of onlookers. Eichi laughs gleefully at his suffering.

“Fufufu. That is because my whistle commanded the monkey to go for his prey, which is none other than Keito-kun’s glasses. What a clever little creature he is!” 

“I know, right? I  _ almost _ feel bad watching the monkey harass him like that...” 

Wataru glances sideways. “Eichi, your merciless attitude makes my heart race, truly, but perhaps I shall put Keito-kun out of his misery.” He whistles again and the monkey scampers into the crowd.

“Fufu. You know, we can always try this trick on him later - for now, like you said, let's keep it to just the two of us.”

“Ahh, such a privilege! What shall we be doing next? Do you want to see me climb to the top of the champagne tower?”

Eichi’s eyes widen. “Can you  _ really _ ?”

“Of course!” Well, he can  _ really  _ make it look that way, anyway.

“Let’s not cause a major incident quite yet, though. I want to go outside for a bit.”

“Hmm? Lead on, then, lead on!” 

“It was your magic that put the idea in my head,” Eichi explains as Wataru falls into step next to him. “All that glitter made me want to see the stars glittering for myself, so to speak. Let’s stargaze.”

“What a noble motivation! The stars shall surely overflow on a cold winter’s night such as this, indeed - ah, and perhaps we should stop to retrieve your coat, all things considered.”

“Can't you keep me warm with your body heat?” Eichi complains, but he changes course.

“Spontaneous human combustion…? I can try it, of course, but I’m not practiced in the art, no…”

 

\--

 

The clear cold bites into them immediately, when they step into the outside world, and the piercingly loud silence is as much of a shock. Everything is lucid and beautiful now - even if Wataru can barely see a thing apart from dim security alarms and distant streetlights, only feel the soft warmth of Eichi’s fingers in his hand and hear their breathing going ragged in the icy air. They run out from under the eaves of the building, look skyward.

And it’s cloudy. Eichi laughs as if it’s a wonderful gift to be denied the view he came for, the beautiful sound echoing faintly across the school grounds.

“Not a star in sight,” he says. “I forgot about the weather.” Wataru’s eyes have adjusted enough now he can see Eichi shaking his head and smiling. 

“Amazing! I as well - however, my dear protégé once taught me that the night sky is all the more beautiful like this. We need only imagine! It is precisely because we cannot see that our imaginations extend infinitely…!” He summons a sparkling sound effect to go with the line, played from a hidden speaker in his shirt. ”Or some such thing.”

“Your protégé…that Sakaki-kun?”

“Sakasaki,” Wataru reminds, and triggers the stock 'failure’ sound effect. 

“Tch.”

Eichi turns to face him, takes his other hand. Worried by the waxy coldness he feels, Wataru envelops Eichi’s hands in his own, trying to warm them. 

“Thank you,” Eichi says absently, looking up at the opaque sky again. “Using my imagination, huh. So I’m still allowed to say that the sky is pretty up there, that the stars are bright, aren't they, or that... ‘the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?’” 

Wataru feels that little jolt again, for all that he knows Eichi is just teasing him. “...Perhaps you could describe it, so that we might imagine the same thing.”

“The moon? It’s a big ball of rock orbiting the Earth.” Eichi chuckles. “It’s an exquisite white dinner plate where you can dine upon seas of stardust… I’m not good at writing descriptions. We’ll just have to use our memories of the real moon.” 

Wataru remembers a round spotlight of a moon above sweltering heat, whirling wind, the opposite to this still coldness - on Tanabata, too, they’d stargazed together, hadn't they? Although Eichi had fallen asleep so quickly. Well, there was no chance of that this time.

“I’ve been thinking about the first time you showed me such a beautiful sky,” Eichi says unexpectedly. 

Wataru blinks. “You too?” He loves their moments of synchrony!

“Quite a lot, recently. It was wintertime then too, after all.”

“ _ Winter…?” _ Never mind synchrony. Wataru can't remember this.

“Yeah, the first time we met - no, the second. It was Christmas Day, and you visited me in hospital. You took me flying, remember? The stars felt so close, and so warm... It’s one of my favourite memories.”

Ah. They  _ had  _ met on Christmas Day... but the 'flying’ part was a mystery. “I recall it well,” he says anyway, because why would he want to destroy one of Eichi’s favourite memories? “It took a great deal of trouble to bring in my hot-air balloon secretly, after all!” 

At this point there’s a long silence. “...Balloon?” Eichi finally says, and abruptly pulls his hands away and shoves them in his pockets, huddling in on himself and shivering. “You don't remember, huh. Is defying gravity really such a quotidian little trick for you, I wonder? Or...”

Wataru goes blank with panic for just an instant - “ - I do remember,” he insists, improvising. “You may not have seen a balloon, but how do you think I arrived at your side in the first place -” 

“It’s okay,” Eichi says mildly. “My memories from back then are all muddled up with fever. I probably dreamed it, I realise that now.” 

“Eichi… it is possible you just need to jog my memory, yes? If you told me a little more... in fact, even if it was a dream, won't you tell me more about it? Let me share in that dream?“ 

Eichi, beginning to turn away from him, stops. “I’ve told you I’m not good at writing.”

Wataru spreads his arms and coloured lights spiral wildly about him, his only trick that might still stop Eichi looking away, in this darkness. “Why, then we shall have to witness it for ourselves! If you can describe it, I can do it - I shall put on a special performance when you least expect it, whisk you up into the stars, and transform your dream into reality, Eichi! Let us not forget this treasured memory of yours, please…! Let us replay it! Honour it! Yes indeed!” They wait in uncomfortable silence while the echoes of his yelling die down. “And I am sorry for lying to you.” He’s sincere, which only makes the admission even more difficult.

Eichi sighs. “I don’t blame you for it, although I prefer to know the truth. I put you in a difficult spot.” He tilts his head. “Recreate my dream, huh.” And he turns back again. ”No, I think we can do one better. I think we can improve on it.”

“Oh?” 

“Do I really need to remind you, Wataru? Reality is what's full of miracles, isn't it? A dream couldn't compare.” Eichi lifts a hand, and Wataru drifts closer to him by habit, feels warm breath on his lips and a hand on his cheek. “For example, in my dream back then, we’d never have done  _ this _ ,” he whispers, leaning in for a kiss -


End file.
